The Chinese Revolution
by Fangtom
Summary: A historical fanfiction. The last empire of China goes through its dawn and soon its death, the Qing Dynasty is almost over. A Conference is held to announce the auspicious news: the first Chinese Republic will be born in an era of revolution. Includes "The Cotton Queen". Slight ChuViet. China x Vietnam, Nyo!France x Britain
1. A New Republic

**1914 A.D, the Warlord Era**

Wang Yao sat upon the soft cotton bed in the room given to him by his caretaker. It was nicely decorated, as if meant for the elderly to live in. The walls were painted a soft faint yellow, shelves with adorable oriental plushies resting on top of them lined the wall with the door to the left side of his bed. To the right was a window overlooking a beautiful garden blooming with flowers and teeming with insects; a small pond was included. He stood up and walked to the window to gaze out at the scenery. It was like the beautiful Chinese landscape he had known his whole life.

It was a great contrast to the black pillars of smoke that can be seen in the distance; cloudy days were also strangely more common these years.

His hair was tied back in his trademark ponytail, he was dressed in a full white Zhongshan suit, giving him the image of a hospital patient. This was aided by his often tired expression, his sunken eyes, and a tired carriage and slouching of the body. His hands were on the window sill, twitching at times. His honey eyes were darker than usual, and instead of the experienced movements of his eyes, they have taken to just staring for long periods of time, just as he is staring at the pond.

A frog jumped into the pond, snapping him from his stupor.

He instead focused on other beautiful things in the scenery, which he heavily suspected was meant to be there for his sake. Taiwan is always the attentive type to the needs of people. Yao began to recall the events leading up to the present.

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 **1911 A.D, 1 year before the Xinhai Revolution**

The twilight of the Chinese Empire, or more appropriately the Manchurian Qing Empire, was about to usher in the start of a new era, the likes of which has never dawned in the Middle Kingdom. All of this can be contributed to the tampering of the foreign powers, for better or worse.

China was about to become a republic.

Alfred F. Jones, the personification of America, was trying to navigate his way through the crowded streets of Nanjing to get to the Capitol where a very important meeting was being held. He had received an invitation from Sun Yat-sen, supposedly a very important leader, to attend the declaration of the first Chinese republic in history. Being a republic born from the trials of the American Revolution, Alfred was partial to the current conflict occurring in China.

The current Qing Government was a despotic monarchy ruling over an increasingly oppressed and restless population of over 400,000,000 Chinese denizens; news broke out that a group of political reformers were establishing a new government to overthrow the imperial throne and institute a democracy. This of course would mean civil war between the Qing loyalists and the

republican revolutionaries. In many ways, Alfred found this current political situation parallel to his own history, having thrown off Arthur's monarchist control over his affairs when he was still the Thirteen Colonies. He remembered the many struggles he pulled through even after the end of the Revolutionary War, ergo the Articles of Confederation, the Constitutional disputes, the Civil War, and so many other events that would ruin any other weaker nations. This of course can't stop a hero and his destiny to become the greatest power in the world! His only question is if this fledging republic can survive the next years to come.

His musings got him even more lost than ever; it didn't help that many of the locals were giving him death glares and throwing insults at him, unknowingly failing to realize he understood everything they spat in their Mandarin tongue. His involvement in the imperialist presence in China and his appearance as a white devil earned him a hostile reputation among the populace. It's not his fault the hero had to step in and stop the Boxer Rebellion before they killed off every foreign delegate in China. Besides, they should be happy with his brilliantly thought out Open Door Policy, telling those Europeans to keep their grubby hands off unequal trade dominance in China, which would do terrible business to the Chinese and his own trade. Still, he understood what it was like to be oppressed and have one's freedoms limited. In the past few decades of the Chinese theater, Alfred had treated everyone with respect even if he didn't receive any in return, and he supposed he couldn't blame them for unfairly putting the fault of the other powers on his shoulders, for they remember it was the American marines that effectively helped crush resistance.

He couldn't remain lost forever, luckily he caught sight of blond hair and caterpillars.

"Hey! Arthur! Over here!"

Said Brit, talking to a purple eyed French woman, turned to face the source of the call. Upon seeing Alfred, his thick eyebrows furrowed in exasperation.

"It's about bloody time you got here, wanker!" he cried out, earning the stares of many passing by Nanjing residents.

If Alfred was considered a devil, Arthur Kirkland, the personification of the United Kingdom, was the God of Hell himself. Almost all of China held the most hatred to the British Empire for the Opium trade and the Opium Wars, which had placed the country in the dubbed term "Century of Humiliation". British imperialism was the sole cause for the decline in China's power and prestige in the world, a hot brand to the stubborn pride of the Chinese people. Naturally, he was guarded by a few British marines, but he was on a peaceful delegatory mission so violence would best be avoided.

"Dude, chill. I got lost for a moment, and I would have gotten here eventually. Besides, I could have just asked the locals for directions."

"As if you could so easily do that you idiot, these people would sooner recite sutras to us to ward off demons than help you," he looked around knowingly at the hostile atmosphere, the marines were nervous of a hate riot.

How many bullets can stop a rampaging tide of people bristling with swords?

"It doesn't matter, I found you, you'll lead me to the Capitol meeting and everything will go as scheduled."

Marianne, the personification of France, decided to join in on the conversation in the way she did best. "Angleterre was uncomfortable, all alone with the locals, so the first thing he did was seek me out for my company in this foreign land." She followed by wrapping her arms around one of his own.

Alfred thought the image of Arthur's face redder than Antonio's tomatoes was hilarious. He laughed before his more serious side observed this interaction. Britain and France had been bitter enemies for a long time, bickering and fighting each other even before he was born. Yet recently, they seemed to have wordlessly buried the hatchet and tolerated their presence more than usual. Marianne was even flirting with Arthur without his honest rebuttal of her teasings. As an isolationist, this didn't seriously concern Alfred, who was happily camping alone with his buddies Canada and Mexico, maybe not the latter. But. . . this could prove interesting to foreign politics.

To avoid giving his own input to this gesture, and save face, Arthur had stormed off in the direction of the Capitol with Marianne still holding onto his arm. Alfred chuckled lightheartedly and followed behind.

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Wang Yao was ready.

He was dressed in a meticulously groomed tuxedo and his normally long hair was even cut short for this auspicious occasion. A national event including mostly Western delegates demands appropriately dressing to greet the Westerners, in the clothes of West. As the personification of the Motherland, Yao had to represent the westernization of the country's infrastructure, from its economics all the way to how the government officials should dress.

Deep inside, Yao didn't want to dress like this. Yes, he was in favor of the republican reformation of the government, he just felt that Chinese people should stick to Chinese clothes no matter what other people think. But that man, Sun Yat-sen, soon to be president of the new republic, insisted that this attention to detail would leave a lasting impression on the foreign delegates and was necessary to the success of the convention.

Soon, he'll be switching out for the new military garments of the West, so that he'll help fight the Qing loyalists who still pose a threat to the survival of the republic. Concerning that issue, Yao felt as if a half of him was missing, and that half was standing against the hopes of the Chinese for a just government and a bloodless revolution.

Yao strode along the halls of the refurbished Capitol, now designed to intermingle the European and Chinese architecture, and double checked all the preparations for the first meeting of the republic. Food, wine, services, servants not dressed in tacky silk robes and sporting clean haircuts, and the documents the president was going to present to the delegates. Everything was in check so far.

"You seem very busy today, China-san."

Yao, stiffened at the calm voice, and slowly turned to face its owner. Kiku Honda, the personification of Japan, was standing respectfully near the door leading to the conference room. He must have come early, Yao noted, always the punctual man.

"Hello, Kiku aru"

A heavy awkward silence hung in the air. Yao could feel the anger boiling through his heart, recalling the Sino-Japanese war, which had ended horribly for the archaic Chinese who could not hope to fight the modernized armies of Imperial Japan. It was a slap in the face to the Chinese, who long regarded the Japanese as a primitive pirate people and certainly inferior to the glory of the Chinese Empire. All the more reason to overthrow the Qing government, which many have correctly blamed for the decline in Chinese military power.

He remembered when Kiku came with his armies, Yao had raised his own armies to repel Kiku's invasion in Korea, but his traditional army of swords and muskets shattered against the line and fire of Japanese rifles. Then they swept swiftly through the Manchurian territory, effectively defeating China in the war. His generals were beheaded for surrendering, and his people kowtowed before the uniformed soldiers without putting much of a fight. The peace in the Asian family was shattered when Kiku took advantage of China's growing weakness.

So was Japan's path to power.

Kiku appeared slightly uncomfortable, Yao's experience easily detected this, but he maintained his ever stoic expression. "I had heard from the embassies that your country wir become a repubric, and effectivery reprace the imperiar throne, I am grad to see that you are changing to fit in with the shifting times. The past shourd be left behind for the sake of modernization." Ironic that Kiku was still grasping the accents of the English language while being a leading force of East Asian reform.

Kiku was originally a Shogunate dictatorship until Alfred coaxed him out of his isolation, it took a long time for the American to get the placid Japanese man to leave his shelter. Once he experienced the wonders of Western superiority, he quickly embraced it and sought to turn his country into a world power to model that of the other countries. Yao fondly remembered how excited Kiku was to demonstrate all the wonderful tools shipped in from all corners of the world, and how he showed disinterest. After the Boshin war, the last Shogun resigned and the Emperor's throne became the leader of Japan. It was his rebirth that led him to doubt his former caretaker's way of life, too old-fashioned and lacking progress to command respect or a place in the world.

"I understand that Kiku, that's why this will be the much needed change. I've learned from my failings and will reestablish my respect among the nations," Yao paused in solemn thought. "How is Yong Soo?"

Kiku said nothing for a few seconds. "He's in good hands, China."

For the sake that the upcoming meeting will run smoothly, Yao shoved down his fury and dropped the subject to fight over another time. Sensing where the conversation might lead to, Kiku bowed and left to explore the Capitol, ending any talks. Yao stood, still numb after holding a nearly normal conversation with his now mortal enemy.

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Alfred, Arthur, and Marianne had arrived at the Nanjing Capital 30 minutes after their meeting in the streets. The younger American nation occasionally tried to bring up the many 'interesting' incidents that occurred in his geographic isolation, but most of the conversation was between the Englishman and Frenchwoman who discussed the growing political tensions back in Europe. Now and then, the two would bicker over their competition of holdings in Africa and Asia, but never degrade to a violent fusillade of verbal hatred.

Things have certainly changed between the two.

Many other nations were already congregating in the main hall, their loud voices easily heard over the overall assembly.

"Ve~ Germany! The wine is not strong enough and there's no pasta!"

"Nein Italy. I don't need you getting drunk for zhe meeting coming later, und we're in China . . ."

Ludwig and Feliciano, Germany and Italy, stood out among the various powers important enough to visit the convention. The taller blonde German noticed the 3 newcomers and joined the Austrian Roderich in greeting them out of the courtesy drilled into his psyche. All the nations were expected to maintain politeness in the political field. So far the atmosphere was hospitable and tensions were not too thick from recent politics.

None of them could have seen nor predict the horrible calamity to come 2 years later.

As expected, all of the foreign powers were present for the conference. Eight of the Imperial powers are present: America, Britain, France, Germany, Italy, Austria and Hungary, Japan, and Russia. Lesser nations that still held importance in politics like Belgium, Poland, Spain, Canada, and Mexico are included in the conference, but don't stand out as much as the imperial powers. A few more invited guests have yet to come.

The conference began soon after. Each nation was to stand with 2 delegates, a man and woman from the country's aristocracy, to represent them. All members were permitted to speak out and ask questions, but it is usually the nations themselves who drove the conversation forward. Countless flash cameras and journalists were crowding within and around the perimeter of the meeting. Most eyes were on the grand podium where Sun Yat-Sen stood, announcing China's declaration of republicanism. The soft-spoken Hakka man made an effort to appear the least aristocratic and the most modern at the same time, effectively shattering the foreign image of a primitive chinaman. After his address to the conference, Yat-Sen left to settle matters of dealing with existing Qing government. Yao took over to answer questions from the other nations.

Everyone was amazed to see Yao wearing a tuxedo and sporting a fresh haircut, with the queue noticeably removed. No attempt was made to conceal their reactions.

"Dude, China, you look like a teen!"

"Oh Roderich, Look at how cute China is!"

" …"

"Bloody hell, what happened to your hair?"

"Must resist urges…."

"KOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOLKOL."

Yao's eyebrow twitched. With a professional refinement previously unheard of from the short man, he spoke, "That will be enough, Aru. Now, I'm sure you all know why you are invited here." He held a cup of tea in one hand and brushed his bangs with the other. "Today, I ask all of you to recognize me as a new country. To you, and to the entire world, this is truly significant! A new world power will join the global fray as another example of a government run by the people for the people aru" Yao motioned to Alfred.

Arthur furrowed his brows and prompted the first question, "China, how does the president plan to treat the Qing Royal Family?"

Yao dipped his head and smiled through his response, as if preparing for the whole time to answer that question. "Well, the president plans to make them citizens of the republic aru"

Marianne followed next, "The Revolutionary government has opted to pay the royal family 4 million taels in silver. Is that how you're going to treat your citizens, with bribery?"

"Money cannot be a measure here, Marianne. Not all revolutions need guillotines aru"

The Frenchwoman rubbed her neck subconsciously. "I agree."

Alfred gave his question, in a professional prose he demonstrates only in times of serious politics. "Since the Revolutionary government is official, and the Qing government is still in power, China is currently in a state of civil war. Does this mean the nation is split?"

The full meaning of the question was understood by all the nations. A civil war essentially meant the avatar of the country was split into two or more persons to represent the governments in charge. Each split shared the exact same memories and appearance as the original, but personalities tend to differ depending on the political body's affiliation. The avatars' strength was also divided proportionally to the different sides of the civil war.

The composed Asian responded. "Yes, there is now two of me. I'd imagine that my Northern half is inside and plotting at the Forbidden Palace in Beijing as we speak aru."

Alfred could compare the Chinese Revolution to both the American Revolution and the Civil War. The latter he would rather not remember the conflict between the North and the South.

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 ** _May 5, 1865 A.D, 26 days after General Robert E. Lee's surrender of the Confederate Armies._**

 _"You know what you have to do . . . Carry it out."_

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 _A young woman was limping across a cotton field, once worked on by African slaves who fled when the Emancipation Proclamation was announced. She was wearing her standard grey Confederate uniform, stained with blood run dry many days ago. Her neck long blonde hair was dirty and stuck together, hinting that she hadn't cleaned herself in a long time. Her eyes were slightly sunken and skin a little pale, but her natural beauty still radiated if she didn't look so forlorn._

 _Amelia F. Jones, the Confederate States of America, was at a loss. The Union forced the best military mind, General Robert E. Lee, to surrender to Grant's forces. Jefferson Davis was captured. The South's infrastructure was deteriorating and its armies disbanded, she could feel the strength leaving her body. It hurt to stand, much less walk._

 _But she didn't know what else to do, she knew she had lost and after leaving Richmond decided to just wander across the abandoned fields of the South's famed agrarian industry._

 _So many young boys who worked the fields have died. . ._

 _She didn't know how long she had left either. She suspected she'll probably join those young boys somewhere, the same men she fought side by side with for an ideal that died with the resistance. Damn it all! Damn Lincoln and the ever controlling Congress!_

 _The sound of clopping on dirt told her a rider was approaching. Amelia turned and her heart quickened. Approaching fast, in blue Union uniform, was Alfred in the flesh, his horse parting the clouds of cotton. She could see the hardness in his eyes. She made no attempt to flee as the horse circled around in front of her._

 _The glassless Alfred looked down upon her from his elevated height on horseback, then spoke emotionlessly. "Where do you think you're going?"_

 _The glass wearing Amelia glared up and replied in her rich Southern accent. "Somewhere neither of us'll imagine. I'd reckon you're here to finish the job." Her voice cracked on the last sentence._

 _The Yankee nodded with a cold professionalism, then pulled out his revolver and pointed at her forehead. Amelia stared at the darkness of the gun's barrel for a few seconds. She lowered her head, her hair obscuring her face. Slowly, her body began racking as tears flowed down her face._

 _"It's ain't fair, Alfred. It just ain't! Why can't you just let me go?" She looked up to face him with glassy eyes. "Why must you always enforce control?!"_

 _Alfred lowered his revolver as Amelia continued. "I, no we, seceded to protect the right of the states!" She pointed at his face. "Your legislation, your Congress, was getting too powerful for our own good. We seceded because the contract that held this union was canceled when your government failed to respect our rights. There's no point in being a part of something that will lock me in chains, don't you understand this, Alfred?"_

 _Said man, dismounted. "Your rebellion started this war, the point of our Union was to make decisions so that the country as a whole would prosper in its welfare. The deaths of all those people were unnecessary, the states should've stayed to work something out."_

 _"Don't talk to me like you know something all high and mighty. The end of slavery mean the end of our way of life, it's an important part of our economy. And those Yankees up north didn't give a damn about it, they didn't give us a say in office; they might as well wanted to chop off our tongues."_

 _Alfred was incensed, "It was about time we ended the old institution that marks a dark stain on the freedom of the United States. Every other nation has abolished it and agreed on one thing. Slavery is wrong, Amelia!"_

 _"So is the unfairness of the legislation that the Northern states can dictate whatever they want over the South. What will happen to us when not only slavery is abolished, but our other rights are put at risk! Remember why we revolted from Britain, no taxation without representation, we weren't represented at all!"_

 _"The states joined in the union and we all agreed on the Constitution, it was a mutual agreement and it was fair that the votes were made. You can't just turn your back on it and declare a war."_

 _At this point, Amelia gave up trying to argue. Her weary will broke and she couldn't hold back anymore. She took hold of his left hand with both hands and sobbed. "You think you're a hero? You don't understand my plight, what I'm going through! I just wanted my voice to be heard, and that you would listen to what I have to say. Don't my opinions matter?"_

 _Alfred was struggling to maintain his demeanor. His hero self crumbled in pity over this girl who had lost everything to fight for something she believed in, just as the U.S before them had done against Britain. If only it had been for a better cause. It had been a sad rainy day to see Arthur cry; now he was seeing the same thing before his eyes on a sunny Southern day. Wanting to ease her pain, Alfred pulled her into a hug with his held hand, which snaked around her waist and held her close._

 _Amelia blushed lightly, and cried into the warmth of his uniform. Her arms pulled herself closer to his chest, trying to drown her sorrows in his comfort. Despite being on opposing sides, Amelia always knew Alfred to be a kind and caring person outside politics and had grown a fondness for him since the day she jumped ship. Relishing this bittersweet moment, she tried to forget about the hard ordeals from her first few years as a nation. Perhaps she still had a chance._

 _"I'm sorry for doing this to y'all. Perhaps we can start anew, Alfred?"_

 _Alfred chuckled, a slight smile to his face, but he couldn't keep the momentary mask of light-heartedness on. "If only that was the case."_

 _The words didn't even register in Amelia's mind. Red started pouring out of her mouth and mixed with her transparent tears. Alfred removed the glasses from her face and placed it back onto his. She stepped back from their embrace, a bayonet having been shoved through her gullet by Alfred's right hand. He stared with a pained expression as Amelia registered his sneak attack. She fell to her knees._

 _"You know. . . I had planned to just. . ." She hacked out blood. "Secede and establish an independent country, separate from yours. I had hoped. . . that we could have made up, that we could have been a thing." She closed her eyes, trying to block out the cold feeling threatening to take over. "I always admired you for your bravery in battle and innocence in life. I liked you for having fun and enjoying life. Yes. . . I remember all the things we did when we were one. It's. . . a shame that it had to come to this, really. . ."_

 _Alfred's killing fist clenched. "I knew how you felt, it only made fighting and ending you much harder than I imagined." He lowered to her level on one knee; his own eyes were becoming foggy. "I'm sorry."_

 _Amelia chuckled, her sparkling sapphire eyes fixed on his. "I understand what you had to do, please don't think too much about what has happened today, it wipes the smile off that purdy face of yours." The darkness closed on her mind. "I have all of our memories since we existed, but it feels as if I lived for only a few years. Is. . . this a life worth fighting for? It's too painful. . . and too cold to bear. I want to leave this world. . ." She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Goodbye Alfred."_

 _He looked into her eyes, the sapphires seemed to go dark before the lids closed on them. Amelia fell back and landed softly in the cotton plants, her golden hair resting softly on the white and green. She looked as if she was resting, and simply taking a nap on the clouds._

 _Thus was the dissolution of the Confederate States of America._

 _Alfred can feel his strength returning to him now that the United States was reunited, but then a sickness came over him. He felt invigorated yet weakened at the same time. The Southern half was still in some resistance despite being reabsorbed back into the union._

 _He was also overwhelmed by a massive surge of memories flowing into his brain. He grabbed his skull as the pain erupted in his head. New memories, Amelia's memories, he was trying to process them all at once. Every battle, sorrow, horrors of the war on the Southerners, all from Amelia's perspective, became his memories now. The pain lasted for a minute as his brain finished soaking in all of this information. He fell to his knees and cried over the conclusion of the American Civil War._

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 _"Ah, Alfred! Have you finished the job? You'll have to hurry nowadays because we have a country to reorganize. Damn Confederates."_

 _A distraught Alfred grabbed Andrew Johnson by the collar and lifted him up with his great strength. His face was the expression of pain and fury, though not at the 17th president of the United States. His blue gaze burned through Johnson's skull, and through clenched teeth, he spoke._

 _"You and everyone in the damned legislature will promise me. . . we will NEVER have to go through this again. The people and I have seen enough and we will work so that there will never be another Civil War! Do you understand me!?" His voice had risen._

 _Sure that the whole White House heard his outbreak, he dropped the president onto the floor, who was shaken at seeing the young nation erupt so harshly. Wasn't the war already over? What was America so upset about?_

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Alfred still had nightmares of the Civil War. He never wanted to experience that and the American Revolution, because people suffered from his hands, and what hero could accept that in themselves?

"I suspect that the Qing government will not back down? They will fight to protect the dynasty?"

Yao nodded. "It's truly unfortunate. The president has sent messages asking them to abdicate as the people wished, but they always send telegrams refusing to comply. Thus they are enemies of the people and we will have no choice but to fight if they choose to resist after the cease-fire aru"

So that's what it will come to. "I see, I suppose. . . I'll just wish you luck in your conflict. May your people have their republic in a bloodless revolution."

Alfred stayed silent for the rest of the inquiry.

After the conference had ended, and all nations returned to their homes, Yao walked along the hallway of the Capital. He needed to settle an important matter with a trusted friend, concerning the current 'politics' of the situation.

He could not have ever suspected to meet Hue around the corner.

The personification of Vietnam stood before him as a strong woman in character. She was dressed in her traditional ao dai, in stark contrast to the modern feel of the entire assembly. Her hard gaze was fixed on him.

Perhaps inheriting the gentler side of China wasn't a good thing for Yao, He didn't know what to say to this ice queen, whom he always respected for her headstrong character. Hue's country was known for its women's strength of will, he could like that.

But he hadn't seen her for a long time since the day France colonized Vietnam. What could he say now, he's in the middle of a revolution and he's only got half of himself to face her?

"Hello. . . Hue! Ah, what are you doing here, aru?" He attempted to strike a light conversation with her.

The Vietnamese held her impassive expression, which carried into her tone. "I heard you were becoming a republic, I wanted to come over to check up on you."

So she still cares to check up on him, what a reassuring thought! He tried not to smile so profusely, that'd be too revealing of his turbulent emotions. "Ah, I see! Well I'm doing just fine, aru! Say, I haven't seen you the whole day, did I miss you in the crowd aru?!"

Hue smirked and gave a single chuckle. Points to Yao! "You didn't miss me, I stayed behind the scenes under Marianne's word. I asked if I could come with her and she agreed."

"Well it's nice to see you again, Hue." Yao tried not to sound too excited to see his friend again. "I take that you're still a monarchy aru?"

"It's the Nguyen Dynasty, still reigning for a 100 years."

"Is that so? Well, if you and your people are fine with it, I won't judge. Whatever suits you aru!"

Hue had that mischievous grin. "Ah-huh, sure. Sounds pretty **hippocritical** for a revolutionary government. It seems like favoritism to me."

Admittedly, Yao knows he is being terrible at hiding intentions like these. "No no, I reassure you that I am not for or against any other form of government, that'd be too radical and dangerous." He relished in the lightness of the atmosphere the two were sharing, and decided to move on to more serious discussion. "The monarchy is corrupt and has lead our country to ruin and weakness. For the betterment of the people, we had to revolt and establish a new order. I hope you don't mind, Hue aru."

"No, I don't mind. Perhaps my monarchy has some issues it needs to resolve, but I hope we don't follow into any fights to shatter the country. Peace is preferable in the meantime."

"Perhaps so. Hey, if I regain some of my former power, perhaps I can 'convince' Marianne to release you from her control aru." Yao was eager at the prospect to help Hue.

"And be under your control?"

Yao blushed. "It won't be like that!" Wait, damn, he interpreted it wrong. Recover! "As a republic, it is against our principles to hold vassal states, so we can coexist peacefully without one exerting control over the other. I don't want to control you, I'd like for us to be equal partners in world affairs. Someday, you can be strong too, Vietnam aru."

Hue smiled, a rare occurrence he had the privilege to witness! "I like the sound of that." She looked down the hall, then back and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll have to join up with Marianne and return to my country. It's a pleasure seeing you again, Yao."

Yao maintained his composed smile the whole time, inside, all the excitement was hyped from that small show of contact. "Don't worry, I'll carry through my promise when i become strong."

"Technically, you didn't promise me that."

Always the witty girl. He smiled, "Shut up aru."

After Hue left, Yao returned to his serious task at hand. He met up with his boss and ally.

Sun Yat-sen

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"Aiyah, Sun! Tell me why are you stepping down _**right after**_ being elected president? How is that efficient leadership?"

The gentle and soft-spoken president sighed, "Yao, you know we don't have any other options. Yuan Shikai is the only one with the military might to overthrow the Qing government. Our revolutionary army can't do it by itself. I already said I will abdicate the position of president to the one who can accomplish this task ."

"But your revolution does not belong to one man! I'm worried that he will become an enemy of the republic, he might even restore autocratic rule!"

"I'm very well aware of this Yao, that's why I came to you." He leaned close to convey his message clearly. "Listen, our only hope is in Yuan Shikai despite what we know about his treacherous tendencies. If he tries to become emperor himself, I need you to take charge and defend the republic ."

Yao considered the position deeply. "You want me to take control of the army and stop Yuan Shikai if he betrays us?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, my old friend. You have not failed me. No. The Boxer rebellion was an unfortunate failure, but I know you mean well and this is your chance to continue doing good for China and his people. There are many revolutionaries who will remain loyal to the cause, you only need to rally them and you will have the force necessary to protect the republic."

He means what is best for the country, Yao will believe this enough. The Chinese remained silent for a few seconds. "If that is what you want, then I'll do it aru."

Yat-sen, smiled. "Very good. Now if you may, I'd like for you to make a pledge for our ideals and beliefs?"

Yao hesitated, "A pledge, why do I need that aru?"

"I know, it may seem a little silly to swear a pledge outside of a political conference. But I want you to promise me this, promise me you will lead our people to a better future. The Americans do this all the time. You can even make up one.

He took took her moment to think of what to say. Then without pause, he spoke.

"I pledge on my life to defend the people and the republic established to protect our basic rights from the oppression of feudalism and oppression. Through this, I support the nation's nationalism, democracy, and the people's livelihood, which no foreign or internal power will deny to us happiness and the right to live."


	2. Bringing in New Cruelties

(Derived elements from the movie Shaolin)

 **1913 A.D. The Warlord Era**

Yao was sitting on a chair, dressed in his military garment, silently sipping his tea on yet another cloudy day.

He was currently watching one of his lieutenants testing out a Maxim machine gun on a very unfortunate stack of bricks in the courtyard of his headquarters, easily shredding through concrete like sword through flesh. He seemed very excited, he noted.

Arthur Kirkland, in his own green military uniform and a cane in his hand, was standing to the side with 2 other British officers, watching Yao's lieutenant taking a sample test of the machine guns with a professional expression.

Satisfied with the results, the lieutenant cease-fired to marvel the sculpting skills of the weapon, and perhaps wondering how it can sculpt human flesh. He smiled and turned to face the British. "These are good weapons."

Arthur was clearly satisfied to receive satisfaction, it showed through his smirk. "It is a fine weapon. Invented and patented by British Sir Hiram Stevens Maxim, it is portable, fully automatic, and can outmatch the American Gatling gun in cost, reliability, and, might I add, it's bloody good at harvesting crops! It was used to great efficiency in stopping the great armies of the Zulu, despite British forces being outnumbered a hundred to one. The addition this weapon will be a very cost efficient tool to ensure your success on the battlefield."

The lieutenant continued to admire the gun. "It's amazing." He stood up from manning the weapon and faced Arthur. "How much for them?"

"We can give them to you for free," the capitalist turned to Yao. "We ask in return that you allow us to build a railroad through Tengfeng, which is all you need to do to obtain these weapons."

Yao remained silent for a moment, but he didn't seem to put much thought before he turned to stare off in the distance and said, "No, we will not buy the weapons aru."

The Englishman's professional smile degraded into a gaping mouth, he was clearly taken aback by this proposal. "Surely Yao, you need all you can get to control your country. It's not exactly in the best condition in case you haven't noticed. I'm offering you something that can change the tide of your battles for a relatively small price!"

"Haven't you heard? I said I refuse to buy them aru."

Is he mad? Fighting a war and passing up this opportunity?

While Arthur was at loss for words against Yao's stubbornness, the lieutenant stepped forth. "Wait, excuse us Mr. Kirkland." He walked over and bent down to whisper to Yao. "Sir, we should buy these weapons, they'll be a valuable asset that we can't allow the British to sell to other rival client-" He was cut off when Yao rose from his seat and pushed him against a pillar, effectively holding him in a neck-block.

" **Escort our guests out!"** There was no point for further diplomacy, and he didn't want them to witness anything further.

A hesitant guard bowed and motioned to lead the British out of HQ. Arthur did not hide the frustrated scowl on his face. He whipped up the cane in his hands and strode behind the lead of the guide, his ears visibly red.

Yao was very pissed. He spoke in a low voice.

"Last time I checked, Lieutenant, I am in command and I will make the decisions here. Do you understand me?" He reapplied more pressure on the neck block for emphasis. His anger slowly faded along with his grip. He relinquished his hold on the shaken man, then spoke the reason for his temper.

"China belongs to the Chinese people. Our country and lands are not to be sold to foreigners for them to control!" He walked out onto the courtyard to look at the mutilated bricks, then added, "We cannot allow the British to reassert dominance over us, not after the Opium wars. A railroad through Tengfeng means displacing several burial grounds and artifacts of our ancestors. All to give us weapons to kill more of our people. Do you not see this? They see this as an opportunity to make a profit from our petty conflicts. Our destiny should fall in our hands, not to strangers and foreign devils. That is why we had a revolution."

The lieutenant was silent and spoke no further. Sometimes Yao felt like he was talking to bricks when he spoke to them of his ideals. Perhaps they'll one day shatter like the bricks crumbling underneath his boots.

Truthfully, he didn't want to imagine these weapons being used on any of his people. The barbaric bark of the gun couldn't compare to the grace and efficiency of a sword. But admittedly, the sword's definition of romantic efficiency could not compare to the superior killing efficiency of these foreign devices.

He was scared, that if they fell into the wrong hands, they would be used not on just soldiers.

Yet he probably should have bought them just so Arthur couldn't sell them to other warlords. But allowing the British to control Chinese soil. . . Yao would never allow that to pass. He still harbored a deep grudge towards Arthur, all in part of the Opium Wars that shattered his strength.

Decisions are hard to make these days. Especially with the voices of the dying in his head. Yao could feel the violence across the lands, followed by the crying of the pained and the sorrowed. It played terrible images in his mind, and was detrimental to his health.

He decided to just retire for the day and drink tea.


	3. Warlordism

**1914 A.D. The Warlord Era**

Alfred revisited China 3 years after the day of the conference. He wanted to check up on Yao, fully aware of the raging war between rival warlords which immediately sprang up after Yuan Shikai tried to declare himself the new emperor. It was hell as the power struggle dragged on. Each warlord wanted a slice of land here and there, so they would recruit vast conscripts of soldiers from the farms and villages to fight in their wars. They basically sent young men to kill each other, the American was disgusted by the displays of brutality he had heard from the military leaders, who were like ravenous wolves fighting over a carcass.

When he arrived in the country, the clouds were already casting a depressing mood over the setting that was presented to him. He had seen people hungry in the streets while the soldiers hoard all the farmers' taxes to feed their armies. He heard stories of many families who crumbled in despair at the news of their lost husbands and sons. Things get worse when he found out what a pugnacious warlord might do to people in a captured territory. Too gruesome by American standards.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Things were supposed to be better. Lives were supposed to be better under a free society. This is not freedom, it is poverty and despair.

Morbid musings aside, Alfred finally found where Yao was staying: at a mental hospital.

That doesn't seem like a good sign

"Oh! Ni-hao Alfred!"

"Hi Mei!" Straight to the point. "I'm here to see Yao, he's here right?"

The Taiwanese territory nodded. She bowed respectfully, flustered at his sudden appearance. "Yes, he's here. Do you want to see him?"

Blink. "That's what I said."

Mei flushed at her blunder. "Oh right, never mind what I said. I'll take you to him right away!"

She adjusted the pink flower in her hair. Mei couldn't collect herself at the moment, being too self-conscious in America's presence. It's not that she had any personal feelings for him, she was simply noting how handsome he looked.

Not that America noticed.

Taiwan led through the institution, her nerves now collected by Alfred's visit. She sought some small talk.

"Why do you want to see him?"

"Well, just to check up on him. I want to see if this social experiment is going to work. I am a republic myself after all."

"Well, Alfred. Things aren't going so well. The whole country is in chaos over the pointless fighting. It's stupid really, everyone wants a shot to be emperor. It's not healthy for Yao, not at all."

"What's wrong with him?"

"You'll see for yourself, she led him to a stop at one of the many doors holding patients."

He stared at the door. "He's here? I can't believe it'd be here out of all places. . ."

"Yes, you know that we represent overall stability of our nation and represent the culture and ideologies of the people. I want you to go inside this room where he is, and just see with your own eyes what things have become. Let me warn you, no mentions or any moves relating to violence."

"Why so?"

"He's not in a very stable state, I couldn't identify his exact symptoms; it's completely new in the field of psychology and is perhaps unique only to nations. The psychologist took a look at him, and dubbed it 'warlordism'. Take a guess as to what that means."

"Yao is suffering a new form of PTSD?"

"He reacts aggressively to certain triggers that relate to causing harm. It started when he began flipping out whenever the politicians spoke of the war, or read an article on the newspaper describing the losses. He nearly took out someone's eye when a servant dropped a dinner plate, he probably thought it was a grenade. It degraded to the point we could not keep him in charge and sent him to the only suitable institution that could house him, my own. We had to substitute him with a volunteer general. I've taken precautions and refurbished his room to be devoid of red. I even gave strict instructions to never include knives in his silverware."

"It's that bad."

"Thank you for being so blunt. Are you ready to see him?"

Alfred was not sure if he wanted to. he had not seen Yao since the conference to announce the Republic of China to the world theater. How much had he changed since then? Was he really in such a state as Mei had described it? To answer these questions, he slowly opened the door and entered the room.

The room was a soft shade of yellow, and he noted at the adorable plushies present on some shelves. There was a simple bed, and a window opening to the view of a beautiful garden. Somehow, he didn't notice Yao sitting a chair and looking out the window until a few seconds later. His eyes were sunken, his body slouched forward, and his hair had grown back into its trademark ponytail. He looked. . . a lot more sickly since their last visit. The soft smile on his face as he gazed out the window seemed fake, in his opinion, perhaps an attempt to lighten the sullen atmosphere that threatened to choke him in this room. Did he not notice him enter?

"It's been a long time, Wang Yao."

His response was too long, he thought. He turned his head to face him two seconds later. His smile then, seemed genuine. "Oh. Alfred. It is a pleasure to see you again aru. I haven't seen you since the conference all those years ago."

"It's only been three years, buddy."

"Ah, I've been losing track of time, time seems so meaningless when you're as old as me. You should be able to relate to me on that matter. Still, two years to a mortal is still a long time. Have you come to visit me aru?"

"Yea, just wanted to check up on you."

"Wonderful! Come and sit aru." He slowly motioned to the bed close to his chair. Alfred sat on the side so that he would be angled towards Yao and the window.

"So. . . how have you been this whole time?

The small Asian man closed his eyes as if to contemplate a deep meaning, like he would usually do when he philosophized. "I suppose I have been faring well in these recent days. Mei was kind enough to let me stay here temporarily, to clear out my thoughts before I'll return to the field of politics. From what I have heard, there's been a lot going on in my absence. But I have faith that our leaders are competent and will do their best for our republic aru" He smiled at his words, his eyes still closed cheerfully.

Physically, he was a disaster. But he didn't seem _mentally_ sick so far. Perhaps Mei was just exaggerating something or perhaps she was pulling some weird.

But judging from past conversations, Mei isn't the joking type. Alfred will make sure that he doesn't set him off into some violent outburst, he has seen what an incensed China can do with all his experience of fighting. Not even he could easily subdue him when the Alliance powers kept pestering him to do chores for them, that had set him off rather nicely. . . the gaping holes in the walls could testify that.

"Although," he continued. "I feel as if, a half of me is missing, just like before aru"

"Wait, you mean to tell me there's another one of you again? I mean you are still in a state of- wait no I mean!" Crap, he was steering this conversation in the wrong direction!

Yao furrowed his brows. "To answer your question, no. I do not believe another one of me exists. We already got rid of my counterpart, and it's too soon for another one to just appear. Besides, we would have heard of him or her by now aru."

"Well, it's true. I haven't heard of a 2nd China."

It would seem that Yao was having difficulty concentrating, his irises were trembling. He averted his gaze from Alfred, as if trying to block out the fact that he was here with him. Perhaps he was trying to level out his thought processes after dancing around dangerous subjects. But he seemed to be in control, for he resumed his soft smile and turned back to face him. "One day, we should go out to a tea house and enjoy the world my people have built for us. I look forward to that day aru."

Alfred chuckled sheepishly. "I'm sure we'll have that day, Yao." Alright, the conversation seemed stable, and as long as she avoided a disturbing topic, things should go smoothly. He decided to start on a topic she knew Yao would like.

"So. . ." he teased. "You've been here for a while now. Has Hue had a chance to visit you? How is she?"

Alfred knew something was wrong when China's brows furrowed even deeper, his smile flipped into a frown. He withheld his tongue and didn't speak for a long awkward silence.

"How should I know? I haven't seen her since. . ." His eyes were glassy, silence once again gripped his tongue for a brief moment. "I have not seen her since the day she saw me, in one of my fits. Hue saw me in my greatest moment of weakness! My violent display drove her away. I scared her, Alfred! This stupid war has ruined me! I can't control myself at the mere thought of it! All this fighting. People dying. I can hear the crying. The screams of anguish. I can feel their life fading away. Why must it come to this! So many have died. Everyone is DYING!"

Things escalated quickly. He was ranting, and Alfred knew that an episode was starting. He stood up to try to calm him down. With a quick burst of speed from the old nation, Yao had lunged forth and trapped his neck in his clawed hand. The force of the lunge allowed him to pin him down onto the bed as he proceeded to tighten his grip.

Alfred was being strangled. He couldn't muster the strength to force him to relinquish the chokehold. As strong as he was, China seemed to be fueled by pure fury. Try as he might, his hands couldn't pry the hands away from his neck. The best thing he could do was get him to regain his senses.

"Yao! Stop! It's me, Alfred! Your friend! Let go!"

He showed no signs of heeding her pleas.

"YOU BASTARD WHITE DEVIL, I'LL KILL YOU!"

This was wrong. China may have his temper, but this was downright demonic. His brown eyes stared down with such a petrifying glare as to send chills down his spine. Chills which were being overpowered by the panic.

It's a painful pill to swallow, if he could swallow.

Alfred could feel the blackness closing in on his vision.

"Yao, snap out of it!"

His fierce expression faltered, as did his grip. He stumbled back and landed on his rump, panting. As quickly as it came, his episode had ended.

Alfred was coughing, quickly trying to inhale the much needed oxygen and rubbed is neck where the iron grip had constricted his jugular vein and trachea. He stared down at the pitiful man, now harboring a newfound fear and respect for what he was capable of.

But it couldn't relate to the utter despair on his face.

"I almost killed you. . . all I do is hurt people aru!" he slammed a fist onto the carpet. "This is why Hue left me. How could I have been so foolish to think, that I could ever be with her?" Tear lines ran down his face. "No one wants a man with a violent temper. I was a fool to think, that with our history, she would eventually accept me. It's ironic in so many ways. I allowed myself to feel excitement and glee, that whenever I see her, her warm and friendly company would be stepping stones to her heart. But I lied to myself. She didn't love me, not after I tried to control her for all of these millennia. All I've ever been to her was a friend, that's why she's always so nice to me. Now even that's gone, and probably with that much more worthy Thailand, what do I have now but wolves on all sides to pick at a dying dragon? I am a sorry excuse, a shadow of myself, a disgrace to everything I once stood for!"

His long tirade ended with him just sobbing uncontrollably on the floor, uncaring for another soul watching him in the room. Feeling that he had done enough damage, Alfred fled out the door.

"Now you see what he has become? If Yao from a decade ago saw himself now, he would have laughed and spat on it. This is not a sign of good health for the country."

"That must be an understatement . . ."

The two had returned to a living room, Mei was sipping tea provided by the attendants of the institution. Alfred had not touched her cup, which was still hot.

"But it is interesting to note that Yao did like Hue, and that her leaving him must have left a serious impact on his psyche. I can't blame her though, it's really difficult to see someone you care about behave so terrifyingly. It's a shame for Hue and Yao. They would have made a decent couple."

Of course she would express her shame on what things could have been. "You're still the romantic one. You don't even know if Yao's feelings were requited"

Mei smiled, "One can fantasize. I'd like for teacher to be happy with someone. But now I just hope he gets better soon. We could use his leadership."

Alfred took a sip from his tea, bitter like the mood of the atmosphere. "I hope the same thing." He finished the drink and set it down. "Thank you for the tea, and I must return home soon. Politics and all."

"No problem Alfred. You're always welcome to visit us, perhaps when things get better." Mei smiled, trying to lighten up the mood.

The American flashed a smile back at her hospitality and left the institution. He thought back to the murderous expression on Yao's face. Then he imagined that same face on several generals with bling uniforms. What a pleasant sight. . .


End file.
